


Right from the start you were a thief (you stole my heart)

by DeyaAmaya



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Healing, M/M, Past Abuse, Post-Canon, Soft Jean Moreau, Thunderstorms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-23
Updated: 2019-08-23
Packaged: 2020-09-24 19:34:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20363923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeyaAmaya/pseuds/DeyaAmaya
Summary: There's a fragility in the air between them, something that neither Jean not Jeremy have dared to speak of. They skirt around the topic, pull away just before they touch, look away before eyes catch on each other. Jeremy is the magnet and Jean the Earth's iron core, falling into Jeremy in slow desperation.





	Right from the start you were a thief (you stole my heart)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [imagined_melody](https://archiveofourown.org/users/imagined_melody/gifts).

> This here is my gift exchange piece for Sarah; tumblr: imaginedmelody. I picked your prompt Summer Thunderstorms and Jerejean. Hope you like it!

At first, Jean thought he was dreaming.

(Well, more like _ nightmaring _but Jean honestly had very few dreams that were actually pleasant, and this one wasn’t as bad as the ones with fresh blood and screams.)

The shrieking wind and booming thunder both were pretty real though, as he found out upon waking properly. He stayed in bed, groggy and a little wet. Who left the balcony door open? 

The perks of being a student athlete were numerous, one of these was a balcony adjacent to the dorm room. Being the captain's roommate meant Jean got to enjoy a larger balcony than most. And he did enjoy it when the first ray of sunshine warmed his bed in winter. Right then, though, he kinda hated it. 

The sliding door was open and stray splashes were hitting Jean and his bed. Reluctantly, he sat up to close the door when he spotted Jeremy standing out on the balcony, in the middle of a fucking thunderstorm.

_ That idiot. _

'Jeremy,' he called. 'Jeremy Knox, are you trying to get electrocuted?'

Jeremy is surprised at this and turned towards Jean. He tugged the door almost all the way closed, popping his head through the gap. 'Ah, your bed!' he noticed. 'Sorry, but it’s raining! I can't stay inside now can I?'

'Oh it's raining? I had no idea.' Jean replied dryly. He watched Jeremy grin, the absolute madman. He is soaked from head to toe. 'You need a towel or something?' 

'Not yet, I'm not done.'

Thunder roared overhead and Jean's composure slipped and fell on its face. 'It's dangerous to be outside.' 

'Not really. We have lightning rods in this building, it’s safe, Jean.' Jeremy spoke softer than usual, maybe sensing Jean's unease. They sat at an impasse, the flimsy door between them. Jeremy was looking at Jean, trying to find an answer, perhaps. So Jean told him.

Told him that he was a sickly child who caught colds every time he went out in the rain, and got yelled and slapped by his father till the very sight and sound of rain started to scare him. He kept it up till he was at Evermore, where Riko found out about his aversion to rainfall and specifically arranged most of his punishments around water, be it during a thunderstorm, in a lake, a bathtub or shower. Not just Jean's, but Kevin and Neil's. 

And now standing in the rain feels too much like Riko's waterboarding, the distant thunder as loud as exy rackets meeting flesh and bone. 

Jeremy reached out with a wet hand and picked Jean's fingers loose from where they're clutching the bed sheets in a chokehold. Then he asked.

Jean said no.

Jeremy sat down next to Jean's bed, and he had that determined look in his eyes that makes Jean weary. 

'Jean,' he started. 'I'm not a psychiatrist or therapist, and I know there's a possibility this might do more harm than good, but,' he took a breath. 'Come out in the balcony with me. Nothing bad will happen to you, I promise.'

I promise, he said, as if Jean didn’t know that promises were meant to be broken. But god help him, he went. Jean took the offered hand and followed Jeremy out into the downpour.

Jean is soaked through in an instant, his eyes falling shut. He swallowed a whimper at the sound of thunder cracking overhead.

But then Jeremy was there. Jeremy was here. Jeremy asked him _what can you smell_, and Jean could smell the fresh scent of clean air, the lingering scent of wet earth, a little ozone. Jeremy asked him _what can you hear_, and Jean tuned out the thunder and clouds and instead listened to the shh shh of rainfall, the soft plop of water puddles, the buzz of droplets hitting tree leaves. Jeremy asked him _what can you feel,_ and Jean felt…

Jeremy's hands in his, the fast pulse that means Jeremy is nervous, Jeremy's strong grip, Jeremy's calloused palm and the rainwater seeping through their clasped hands.

For the first time in his life, Jean did not feel afraid in the rain.

*

It takes a year.

Jean still tends to catch colds if he spends too long in the rain, so Coach Rhemman warns Jeremy to not let him stay out for too long. Thunderstorms still startle him and gave him nightmares. He still likes to stay indoors and enjoy the nap weather during summer showers. 

But. 

But there are days like this, when Jean steps out onto the familiar blue balcony and gravitates towards Jeremy. 

Jeremy has his eyes closed, elbows on the steel railing. Jean had exclaimed how dangerous it was, but Jeremy insisted it was safe, that it was connected to the lightning rod and earth and recited some bullshit theory about lightning taking the shortest route to the ground and not through a human body. Jeremy is humming a jaunty tune under his breath, scrunched up face turned into the sky. 

Jean doesn’t announce his presence, instead taking the time to shamelessly, selflessly watch Jeremy. He isn’t the same as he was a year ago, neither of them are. There's a fragility in the air between them, something that neither Jean not Jeremy have dared to speak of. They skirt around the topic, pull away just before they touch, look away before eyes catch on each other. Jeremy is the magnet and Jean the Earth's iron core, falling into Jeremy in slow desperation. 

'Take a picture, Jean,' Jeremy says. Oh, his eyes are open, he's caught Jean. There's mischief in his eyes, now. Jean has reached the end of his line. So he reaches out, wraps his arms around Jeremy from behind and rests his chin on top of the shorter man's head. Jeremy stiffens for a second before leaning back into Jean's chest, where his heart is beating louder than the thunderstorm. Cautiously, Jean kisses Jeremy's hair.

_This_, he thinks. _This is what rain feels like._

*fin* 

**Author's Note:**

> Come yell at me on tumblr! I'm andreil-minyasten.


End file.
